The Best Cocktail Bars in the United States

The hand-washing station at the entrance stocks Loewe soap, which tells you most of what you need to know about this Korean fried chicken restaurant. Club music bounces off vaulted ceilings while you work through a bucket of gluten-free fried chicken with consommé, banchan, and frozen yogurt soft serve to finish. Champagne is the obvious pairing, and caviar-topped nuggets are available for anyone who finds the baseline insufficiently absurd. It holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand.

The freezer martinis section of the menu says a lot about Eastern Standard's priorities. This Fenway cocktail bar has been around forever and carries itself accordingly, all dark wood and low hum, the kind of room that makes a dirty martini feel like the only logical choice. The classics-heavy list also wanders into margarita territory, with a Tajin-dusted mezcal version alongside fruitier options, and the white negroni is never far from someone's hand.

Inside Passage will tell you, with some urgency, that it is not a tiki bar. It's a cocktail bar that takes the mid-century beachcomber concept as a starting point rather than a costume, pairing tropical classics like the Jet Pilot and the Saturn with original drinks and alcohol-free options. The immersive decor still commits fully, so the distinction is philosophical, but the cocktail menu makes the argument.

The cocktail program here was curated by David Wondrich, which tells you something. This is a whiskey bar on the second floor of the Michter's Fort Nelson Distillery, and it leans into that setting without apology: classic whiskey cocktails, a deep roster of bottles, modern riffs, and a handful of alcohol-free options, all served in custom glassware. The room is warm and unhurried, the kind of place that makes bourbon tourism feel less like homework.

The Vault is a cocktail bar tucked behind a gilded door inside the Bellagio, occupying what used to be the casino's actual cage, which gives the whole room a pleasantly loaded history. A chandelier does most of the atmospheric heavy lifting. The drink list leans into vintage spirits and old recipes, so if you're not sure what you want, describe an era and let them run with it.

Frosted mugs pulled straight from a freezer behind a bar draped in kitschy tchotchkes: this Grand Avenue tiki dive bar has been an institution since truckers were rolling through on Route 60. Wood paneling, tiki-style tables, a pool table, and a patio where the smoking happens. On Tuesdays a DJ spins vinyl, playing what the regulars call "funky mutant dance music," and somehow the night outlasts your intentions. Cash only, so plan accordingly.

Karaoke spills out of this LGBTQ+ bar at Park Central before you even reach the door. Inside, Kobalt runs on the pleasant fiction that everyone already knows each other, with drag shows, RuPaul's watch parties, and trivia filling the calendar alongside the sing-alongs. Show tunes, '80s ballads, and early-aughts pop keep the room generous and loud. Cocktails hover around eleven dollars, which makes it easy to stay for one more song, then another.

You reach this cocktail bar and pinball arcade by yanking open a fake freezer door inside Ziggy's Magic Pizza Shop, which is either the best or worst way to start a night depending on how you feel about commitment. Inside: a glowing dance floor, a disco ball, pinball machines, and a full bar. Post-show crowds spill in from the Van Buren next door, so on any given night the room holds goths, burners, and Disney adults in rough harmony.

Inside the Hauser & Wirth arts complex in the Arts District, Manuela is a restaurant and bar where conceptual art hangs on the walls and the cooking tilts Southern with a serious commitment to local ingredients, some grown in their own garden. Cocktails use house-made bitters and tonics, and the food is the kind that makes a gallery crowd linger well past closing time.

The bar is in the basement, which is the point. The Drifter is a tiny subterranean cocktail lounge tucked beneath the Green Door Tavern, a speakeasy in the old sense of the word, not just the aesthetic. Low ceilings, dim light, and the general feeling that you've wandered somewhere you weren't supposed to find. The kind of place where a well-made drink tastes better simply because you had to descend a staircase to get it.

A compact caviar and seafood bar just off the Caesars Palace casino floor, where Pringles arrive with caviar French onion dip and nobody blinks. The real trick is a life-sized portrait of a sailing captain that swings open onto a purple-and-turquoise room with a stage, hosting yacht rock nights and karaoke. Expect smoked Old Fashioneds, espresso martinis, and strangers committing to "I Will Always Love You."

The entrance is a walk-in freezer at the back of a Downtown ice cream shop, which is the kind of plot twist a Las Vegas cocktail bar can get away with. On the other side is an Old Hollywood-style hideaway serving movie-themed drinks, some arriving in milk pint glasses. You can also roll a pair of dice and let the bartenders improvise around your fate. Dress for a drink, not a sundae.

Past a door that makes very little effort to hide, this cave-like cocktail bar sits behind a taco spot in a busy Chinatown plaza. The drinks lean loud: tequila infused with Flamin' Hot Cheetos, mezcal with chamoy, a margarita lightened with a splash of Corona. The kitchen next door keeps the snacks coming, birria ramen included, so nobody has to leave the cave hungry.

The Underground is a Prohibition-themed speakeasy tucked beneath the Mob Museum, and yes, there's a daily password, which the museum's website will hand over to anyone who asks nicely. The brick walls double as a 1920s exhibit hall, with flapper outfits and a cocktail kit hidden in a briefcase. It also runs its own working moonshine distillery, so the bootlegging is technically legal, which is the one disappointing part.

Wax Rabbit is a speakeasy tucked behind a tequila cellar at the Durango resort, and getting in means finding the right miniature rabbit among the many on display and pulling it like a lever. Past the door, everything is red, a DJ spins vinyl from blues to 2000s throwbacks, and the guava-and-strega Hidden Passion arrives in a pineapple-shaped glass. Eater and The Infatuation both keep it on their hidden-bar lists.

The smartest move Accomplice ever made was opening next to Taiwanese restaurant Little Fatty, so when the cocktails do their work, crab rangoon and shrimp chips are one door away. It's a moody cocktail bar in Mar Vista where the drinks lean into unexpected flavors, Japanese whiskey and oolong sharing space with goji berry and ginger. The 50 Discovery named it among their finds, which tracks.

A plain wooden door down a sketchy Belltown alley opens into a speakeasy-style cocktail bar that fits maybe thirty people across two floors. Upstairs, the intimate bar puts you shoulder-to-shoulder with shelves stacked with cocktail books. The menu runs to eight drinks, but the move is Dealer's Choice: name your spirit, name your mood, and let the bartender figure out the rest.

The bullet holes in the walls are original, and so is the escape route through the ladies' lavatory. This Tenderloin cocktail bar started life as a Prohibition speakeasy, complete with a trapdoor and password, and neither gimmick has been retired. The 1920s painted wallpaper and marble staircase survived intact, and you still need the password to get in, which is either charming or exhausting depending on your mood.

Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined with bottles replace the books here, and the ladders are real. This TriBeCa spirits bar has made brandy its organizing principle, stocking vintage Armagnacs, Cognacs, and plum brandies from corners of the world most bars have never considered. Whisky and rum fill the gaps, the cocktail list runs a hundred drinks deep, and the staff who climb those ladders to fetch your bottle know exactly what they're doing.

The zinc-topped bar inside the Ace Hotel is where Jeffrey Morgenthaler built his reputation, and Portland's cocktail crowd hasn't forgotten it. Clyde Common is technically a big, open dining hall, but the bar runs the show here, with vintage stools filling up fast under a double-height ceiling loud with conversation. The food is genuinely good, but nobody's coming just for dinner.

The cocktail bar on the second floor of the landmark Metropolitan Life building, where the ceilings are tall enough to make you feel like you should order something serious. The drinks program travels with the restaurant group globally, which keeps the bar from feeling like an afterthought to the dining room below. A polished crowd in no hurry fills the seats most evenings, and the room does most of the work before the first drink arrives.

You get in by picking up the phone inside a wooden booth at a hot dog joint on St. Marks. If whoever's watching the camera approves, the door buzzes open. PDT is a cocktail bar that takes the speakeasy conceit completely seriously, which is either charming or exhausting depending on your mood, and the line outside suggests most people land on charming. The drinks are the kind of careful, considered pours that made the whole city start doing this.

A hundred-foot marble bar runs the length of the room, and the apothecary shelving, brass fixtures, and velvet accents make the whole place feel like a Victorian soda fountain that took a wrong turn into a Parisian atrium. This cocktail bar in Normal Heights has been an anchor of the San Diego drinks scene for ages, built around housemade bitters, syrups, and sodas long before that was a cliché.

The conceit is that a London Underground station was abandoned in 1890, rediscovered, and quietly converted into a gin clubhouse, and the room commits to the bit completely. A cocktail bar from the team behind Smuggler's Cove, Whitechapel stocks a staggering wall of gins and divides into three areas, including an oxidized-patina bar counter called The Platform. Come for a gin and tonic; stay because you forgot you were on Polk Street.

Hand-cut blocks of ice imported from Japan are the first clue that this isn't a typical whiskey bar. Tucked into the Las Vegas Arts District, Bar Ginza models itself on the quiet whiskey bars of Tokyo, with more than 90 Japanese bottles lining brick walls and flights structured as an omakase. If you don't know where to start, the co-owner behind the bar is happy to pour his way through an education.

A pre-war cellar beneath the Flatiron that once hosted a gambling den is now a cocktail bar with avant-garde techniques and presentations critics have called sippable art. The room has the bones of a genuine speakeasy, and the drinks menu leans into that drama hard, with smoke, science, and ceremony that would feel overwrought somewhere less atmospheric. A good spot for a first date, assuming you want them slightly impressed.

The original Dear Irving on Irving Place is a cocktail bar that commits hard to the speakeasy aesthetic, complete with dim lighting, velvet, and the sense that someone might ask for a password. The menu roams across classics, seasonal builds, and aperitivo riffs, so there's always a reason to linger past the first round. A Spirited Awards Regional Honoree, it draws a dressed-up crowd that takes its evening seriously without taking itself too seriously.

Dots Cafe is a neighborhood dive on Clinton Street where the vinyl booths, flocked wallpaper, and velvet portraits seem to have been told it's still around 2010, and nobody's corrected them. You order at the bar, which leaves time to study a menu of cheesy fries and vegan burgers. Cocktails are on offer, but a shot and a local beer fits the room. The patio has slushies and cheap rosé, and Portland Monthly lists it among the city's best bars.

A five-foot resin Pomeranian sets the tone for this dark, moody cocktail lounge inside the Vanderpump Hotel on the Strip. Lisa Vanderpump's Las Vegas footprint runs to black-and-red decor, a martini for two arriving on a skewer of a dozen-odd olives, and a cocktail that comes with caviar. The house gimmick of sealing a secret into a tiny envelope and locking it in a vault is either charming or deeply on-brand, depending on your relationship with reality television.

The mahogany L-shaped bar gives away what Paul Bar/Food is before you've ordered anything: a serious cocktail bar that happens to feed you well. It sits next to a strip-mall dispensary, which keeps the tourists guessing and the locals comfortable. Classic drinks get quiet tweaks, a frozen Sidecar here, a black Manhattan there, alongside a short food menu of wings, burgers, and steak frites that nobody's complaining about.

A dark, stylish room next to the Twist PS hotel that takes itself a little more seriously than most of what Palm Springs has to offer, and earns it. Tailor Shop is a cocktail bar with a short, well-considered menu, the kind of place where a Ward 8 or a Sazerac arrives looking like someone thought about it. The crowd tends toward dressed, not sunburned.

The red leather booths survived the renovation intact, and the 1970s diner vibe is so well-preserved you half-expect a harvest-gold appliance somewhere in the back. The Heyday is a casual burger shop on North Palm Canyon serving smash burgers, fried chicken sandwiches, and wings alongside strong classic cocktails and a retro playlist that earns its keep. The kind of place that makes Palm Springs feel less like a wellness retreat and more like a road trip stop.

The menu lists a spicy margarita riff called The Party Lobster, which tells you most of what you need to know about the vibe. Mister Paradise is a cocktail bar in the East Village where the drinks are built with serious technique, clarification, sous-vide, the works, but presented with enough wit and noise that you'd never call it stuffy. Locals land here and stop leaving, which is either a warning or a recommendation depending on your Thursday.

A cocktail lounge called Ok Yeah tucked into the back tells you everything about the vibe here. Hey Kiddo is a playful, Asian-inflected restaurant and bar on the third floor of a Tennyson Street building, with a rooftop deck most people don't find on the first visit. The menu runs on shareable plates, and the team behind it earned a James Beard Outstanding Restaurateur semifinalist nod. The room skews young and loud in the best way.